


tango for two

by jupiterrism



Category: Halfworlds (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Oblivious Gusti, what even is this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:40:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,337
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26245819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jupiterrism/pseuds/jupiterrism
Summary: It tastes like a new beginning.
Relationships: Gusti/Juragan (Halfworlds)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	tango for two

**Author's Note:**

> i'm 4 years too late into the halfworlds hype but damn, the sexual tension in that series is... wow. anyways, enjoy.
> 
> (who doesn't enjoy ario bayu with thick beard and impeccable suit? also, he dwells in magick so there goes my imaginary pants.)

“Do you like men, Gusti?”

To say that Gusti is surprised is an understatement of the century. The steak he’s been chewing goes down the wrong way, making his wheezes for breath in a desperate gulp of air, coughing fitfully. _Fuck_ ━his head is swimming, but thankfully, a glass of water is within his reach. Across him, Juragan merely looks intrigued, head tilted to a side. No sign of remorse and Gusti should’ve known that.

Once he’s no longer plagued by cough, Gusti returns his gaze to the other man. “Pardon me?”

This time, there is a smirk that crosses Juragan’s face. “I said, do you like men, Gusti? Have you ever harbored an attraction towards them?”

Gusti feels a flush rises up, and he ducks his head, avoiding Juragan’s penetrating gaze. “I don’t know, Sir.” Once the words leave him, Gusti knows that he just took the wrong turn.

“You don’t know?” Juragan sounds incredulous, and even without raising his voice, Gusti knows that there is a frown maring his boss’s face.

“I mean,” Gustin stammers, forcing himself to take a peek at Juragan. True to his words, the man is still staring at him, but his gaze is now sharp, piercing. “I mean, I didn’t have the time to explore my━my sexual orientation. I was━when I served, there was no room to be like _that_. But I have no problem with gay people.”

His memories have gaps, but Gusti remembers nights he spent being close to his team members, the two of them, laying side by side on a mattress. There was no one else but the two of them, but it gave Gusti a moment of peace.

 _Fuck_ ━he’s always thought of it as something platonic, but then again, no one really does that with their friends, right?

“I see.” Juragan’s response drags Gusti back to the present, and once again, he feels a little hot under his collar when there is a knowing look on Juragan’s face. For a moment, Gusti is reminded that the person sitting across him isn’t not an ordinary _human_. There are whispers about Juragan, how he possesses inhumane powers. Mind-reading is one of them.

Having an identity crisis in his 30s is one thing, but having an identity crisis during a dinner with his boss is a whole new thing. Especially when that said boss is the one who caused _it_ and looks exceptionally proud makes Gusti sigh in defeat.

“It’s a pity.” The casual tone causes Gusti to glance warily at Juragan, but the latter only smiles at him. “You’re handsome. Men will be attracted to you once they know that you… _swing_ that way.”

Had he known that accepting Juragan’s offer for a dinner means he’d spend the whole time blushing and stuttering, Gusti wouldn’t say ‘yes’. He’s sure that Juragan wouldn’t accept ‘no’ for an answer, but at least there was still an effort. At this point, Gusti doesn’t know whether Juragan is openly mocking him or throwing him a compliment, because there is no way that a mere mortal like him could read his expression.

“I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” The sound of chair creaking startles Gusti out of his thought. His head jerks upwards only to find Juragan staring at him, eyes soft and lips curling into a smile. It seems genuine enough, so Gusti forces himself to relax. “I apologize if I gave you the wrong intention but you _are_ handsome. Surely you noticed that, don’t you?”

Gusti blinks, rapid and confused, at the statement (he refuses to call that a compliment). His face has started to heat up again but he manages to stammer out, “I━Thank you, Sir?”

The way Juragan smiles at him makes Gusti feel like he’s a child, and Juragan is merely indulging him. It’s soft, but coming from someone as powerful as him tastes like mockery. But Gusti knows better than to rise to the bait.

“You’re welcome,” his boss says simply, dabbing the corner of his lips with a napkin. “Just left your plates here, my people will collect them later.”

Years spent under Juragan’s wings have taught Gusti how dismissal sounds like so he quickly gets to his feet, pushing the chair back into place. He stands there, unsure of what to do next, but a gesture from Juragan draws him close, curious.

“Thank you for coming,” Juragan murmurs, voice low, and a hand grasps on Gusti’s shoulder lightly. “I hope you enjoyed the dinner.”

It is suffice to say that Gusti is not prepared for this: Juragan has never said anything like that before, nor acted like _this_. Gusti gulps, nodding his head while he tries to school his feature into something that resembles indifference.

It is not a surprise that Juragan could see right through it. “I━I enjoyed it, Sir, thank you very much. The meal was splendid.”

A look of contentment takes over Juragan’s features. His hand slides from Gusti’s shoulder and down to his collar, adjusting the piece of clothing. Gusti could only hold his breath from the close proximity; he doesn’t dare to move his limbs when Juragan is _this_ close to him. “Same time tomorrow?” Juragan murmurs, peering up from under his long lashes and Gusti could feel all breath leaving him in a whoosh.

“Yes, Sir,” Gusti answers automatically, cursing internally for not putting up a good fight against Juragan. He surely doesn’t miss the satisfied look that flickers briefly on Juragan’s face, but all thoughts vaporize when Juragan faces him properly. _Fuck_.

“Very good. You’re free to leave, Gusti, and be careful on your way home.” With a cheeky grin, Juragan turns around, leaving Gusti to scramble out of the room. His heart is still doing a somersault inside his rib cages, no matter how hard he presses his hand against his chest. Trust Juragan to make him feel like shit, Gusti grumbles darkly, thankful that the man is nowhere close to him.

But the dinner was nice, and the way Juragan touches him━Gusti shakes his head at that. His mind flashes back to a stack of reports that need processing and this is the first time Gusti is relieved to find them on his table. Anything to take his mind off his boss, he muses, and delves right into them.

••••

"What are you thinking about?"

A voice coming from outside the window snaps Gusti back to reality, hands already scrambling for his gun but he pauses short when he catches the sight of a woman, or _something_ resembling a woman.

"Marni, _fuck_ _you_ ," Gusti groans, slumping against his seat. His grip goes lax around his gun; there's no way he could kill Marni with those, anyway.

Marni cackles, full of filth and glee, and for a moment, she's gone, only to show up on the passenger side. "You don't have to ask," she whispers, acting like the seductress that she is, and leans close.

Immune to her charm, Gusti merely rolls his eyes and tries to inch away from her. Marni notices that, of course, and she stays put, harrumphing. "I'm going to _eat_ you, someday. Little shit," she grumbles.

It's a moment of silence between them before Marni turns her head around, eyes full of joy. "Hey, why do you smell like your boss?"

"What?" In a flash, Gusti has his nose pressed up against his collar, sniffing like mad and finds… nothing. Nothing that could remind him of Juragan, but Marni is not a human, so her nose probably works differently. "You're full of shit, Marni."

Even when Marni lets out a shriek of offense, Gusti has his mind somewhere. He knows why he smells like Juragan, they have been having dinner together for weeks and on each occasion, Juragan always found the chance to _touch_ him. A pat on his shoulders, hand smoothing over his chest, arm slung over his shoulders—it's like Juragan is trying to put a _claim_ on him.

Gusti snorts quietly, why does Juragan even want to do that? He's nothing important to the man, aside from his position in the reserves, but surely, the Demits who pledged allegiance to him are more valuable.

"What's with that face?" A finger pokes his chin and Gusti blinks, turning his head to stare at Marni. She has a shit eating grin on her face, one that never fails to make Gusti stiffen up in defense. "You're playing bunnies with the boss, huh? Cute."

The image of him and Juragan— _fuck_ ; Gusti's groan could be heard over Marni's gleeful cackle. "Good luck, sweetie," she sing-songs, sliding out of his car, "don't forget to wear condoms!"

How is this his life, Gusti doesn't understand. He doesn't even like men, so that doesn't explain why he's now half hard inside his slacks at the mere image of Juragan, naked, expanse of tanned skin exposed and—

"Get your shit together, Gusti," he chides himself, slapping his hands over his face. "Quit daydreaming and get back to work."

With that pep talk, Gusti forces himself to focus, but if his mind keeps flashing back to Juragan—well, no one else knows but him, anyway.

••••

It doesn't stop with Marni, unfortunately. Gusti is scheduled to meet elder Demits, and the dynamic duo, Bandi and Gorga, step forward.

"You smell like Juragan," Gorga says casually, but his eyes are narrowed with a healthy amount of distrust. He takes a deep breath and glances at Bandi, whose face manages to stay expressionless during the whole exchange. "Why is that?"

"I have no idea," Gusti answers, a little too quickly. His mind flashes back to that one time with Marni and, shit, she's not talking nonsense.

Bandi merely nudges Gorga's arm with his elbow. "Don't pry into other people's businesses," he chides, though he's looking at Gusti with barely veiled curiosity. "His arrangements with Juragan is none of our business."

"My arrangements with—hey, wait a damn second!" The pair disappear before even waiting for Gusti to finish his sentence, leaving him dumbfounded and flushed. The audacity—Gusti scrubs both hands over his face, head filled with _images_ that makes him want to take a cold shower.

He doesn’t blame the two for the assumption. Juragan has gotten more… _handsy_ with him, the last time they had dinner. It was somehow tender, but Gusti doesn’t know Juragan; his intention with him is unclear, so Gusti doesn’t want to assume. Assuming is rude, and he wishes the Demits know that.

Maybe he, too, should stop assuming and clear things out with Juragan. Gusti nods to himself and even though he doesn’t know _how_ the hell he’s going to be upfront with Juragan, he’s willing to try.

••••

Gusti is pleasantly buzzed from the wine, and the way Juragan stares at him warms him inside out. There goes his plan in clearing things out, Gusti thinks forlornly, taking a sip of his red wine.

“Penny for your thoughts, Gusti?” A voice calls out right on his right ear, and Gusti jumps a little on his seat. Maybe not so little, considering how the whole glass is now staining his white shirt red.

“ _Shit_ , I’m sorry, Sir—” Gusti quickly gets to his feet, but the way alcohol has clouded his system makes him sway on his feet. This is just beyond embarrassing, he’s not even _drunk_. A quick look on the chair makes Gusti sigh in relief; the liquid doesn’t seep, and only his shirt is ruined.

A hand is gripping his arm, keeping him steady, and Gusti doesn’t even have to look to know that it’s Juragan. The man smells _sweet_ , a mix of tuberose deep in the night and a hint of jasmine, that doesn’t suit his appearance at all. “Calm down, it’s fine,” Juragan murmurs, his voice soothes Gusti down in a second.

“Sir?” Gusti hates how shaky he sounds but when Juragan glances at him, all thoughts and hesitation are gone. “May I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Juragan doesn’t budge an inch; he’s warm against Gusti and it’s hard to hold back a contented sigh.

“What are we doing, Sir? The dinner, the—the casual touch.” Gusti is proud that he doesn’t stutter at all, thanks to the wine. “Even Marni said I smelled like _you_.” Gusti carefully doesn’t mention that one time Barata drops by when he’s patrolling and visibly retching because he reeks of ‘the bossman’, but the hint is still _there_.

Juragan looks pleased by the question. “They noticed, didn’t they.” It’s not a question but a statement, and that confuses Gusti even further. Juragan might have noticed the way he frowns but he only leans close, caging Gusti against the dining table. “Do you trust me, Gusti?”

The way his name is whispered in a low, sultry voice makes Gusti flushes red, but truly, there’s no other answer to the question. Juragan is a man of many secrets; peel a layer of himself, and another defense is present. Still, Gusti trusts him with his life, so he nods his head.

“Have you come to a realization that you are attracted to men, Gusti?”

This time, Gusti only stares at Juragan dumbly; surely, his boss doesn’t need to hear his fantasy about men, right? “I—Sir?”

Juragan looks mildly frustrated with him and it makes Gusti flinch under his gaze. “Yes, Sir, I—have always liked men, I suppose.”

That brings a look of satisfaction to Juragan’s face. “Very well,” he muses, and when Gusti blinks, the man smiles at him. Not a smirk, a full smile that softens the corner of his eyes. “If you allow me.”

Before Gusti has the chance to respond, a warm mouth is pressed against him, making him moan out of surprise. Juragan is… warm, and he tastes like his usual brand of whiskey that Gusti thoroughly enjoys despite _this_ being his first kiss with a man. He places both hands on the other man’s shoulders and kisses back tentatively, eyes fluttering close. They go back and forth like that, and the next thing Gusti knows, there are teeth and tongue involved, the atmosphere growing heavier with each kiss.

Juragan finally pulls away after planting a soft kiss on the corner of his lips, looking less composed. "Have I made my intention clear, Gusti?" His finger trails along Gusti's neck, raising goosebumps, and damn if that doesn't make him harder in his pants.

"You're mine," Juragan says simply and Gusti is helpless to the whims. Yes, _yes,_ he belongs only to Juragan, he realizes that now, and with that thought, Gusti reaches out to pull Juragan into a searing kiss.

••••

Gusti has never gotten the chance to stare at Juragan's naked torso this close before. The man has no qualms in undressing; his self-confidence is astonishing and Gusti wants to bask in that.

Somehow, after the kiss, they have migrated to Juragan's bedroom and Gusti is too distracted to complain. The man's thick facial hair prickles his skin, leaving his mouth and chin raw after they end the kiss. It's weirdly pleasant, not to mention the way Juragan mouths at his neck—there will be a moment where Gusti could be reevaluating his sexual orientation, but later.

"Have you ever done this before?" Juragan asks from where he's leaving bites all over his skin, staking his claim. 

Gusti blinks, head swimming in pleasure, and shakes his head. "No, I—this is my first time with a man, Sir," he stammers through the confession, daring himself to touch Juragan lightly. The man is warm under his touch, coarse facial hair tickles his palms as he cups Juragan's face.

"Good." Juragan looks hungry and pleased altogether, and Gusti feels his stomach heats up at the look. "I'm going to take my time exploring you and you, my dear, are going to enjoy _this_."

Their pants are gone in a blink and it takes his whole life not to cover his hard-on like a blushing virgin. Instead, his eyes land on Juragan's crotch and _holy shit_ , he's _huge_. Huge and flushed red and—

A warm hand over his jerks Gusti back to present time, and he brings his gaze back to Juragan. "I know you want to touch," Juragan hums, voice sultry and teasing, "go ahead."

It's his first time having another man's erection in his hand, and Gusti is so mortified he feels a little light headed. The skin is scorching hot, and with every stroke Gusti gives, the tip leaks a little. "Does it feel good, Sir?" His voice is quiet even to his own ears but Gusti can't blame himself, this is his first time and he wants Juragan to feel good.

"So good," comes Juragan breathy answer, and not a moment later, Gusti feels a warm hand around his erection. Juragan's fingers are calloused and every stroke is deliciously rough, quickly tipping Gusti to the edge. "You're doing so good."

Heat rises from his chest up to his face at the praise and one particular hard stroke sends Gusti reeling, vision goes black. He's still far from finishing, but when he comes back to his senses, he finds Juragan looming over him in an attempt to push his legs to his chest.

"Sir?" Gusti stiffens up warily, but Juragan soothes him with a gentle touch.

"You never did anal before, I presume?" There it is, a feather-light touch on his bottom that causes Gusti to shudder. He doesn't answer; Gusti knows that Juragan knows.

There is a smirk adorning Juragan's face, one that never fails to make his heart jump. "Later," Juragan murmurs, pressing a kiss at his pulse-point, "we have plenty of time for this, my dear."

A pitiful whimper escapes Gusti’s lips when he feels a finger pressing into him, another whine is out as Juragan moves his hand faster over his cock. _So close, so close, so close_ — “Come for me, dear,” Juragan breathes out, voice raspy and low, and that’s it, Gusti is coming so hard he blacks out for a moment.

Through his clouded vision and ringing ears, Gusti could make the grunt Juragan let out, and not a moment later, warm spatters land on his chest and stomach. It takes a moment for Gusti to finally open his eyes but when he does, Juragan is lying next to him, obsidian eyes move like a caress all over his body.

“Sir—did you just… come?” Gusti glances at his chest and true to his words, there are traces of cum smattering his skin. Curious, Gusti drags his finger through the mess before popping the digit into his mouth. It’s salty and bitter, and when he cleans his finger thoroughly, he could hear a sharp intake of breath coming from the man next to him.

Juragan is staring at him with such intensity, but when he reaches out to touch Gusti, it’s tender. “Mine,” he says simply, “I have to mark you, so you smell like me.”

Yours, Gusti says, but not loudly. He always belonged to Juragan, right from the moment he met the man, and it takes him years to understand that. “Yours,” Gusti says eventually, leaning into the man to accept the kiss. It tastes like a new beginning.

••••

**AFTERMATH:**

“That’s disgusting,” Marni comments casually, but visibly repulsed. Gusti hums, not bothering to rise to the bait.

“You look so happy, it’s disgusting,” Marni tries again. This time, Gusti rolls his eyes.

He turns his head to properly face the Palasik, an eyebrow raised. “What?”

This time, Marni grins. “Everyone knows that you’re boning Juragan,” she starts, and when Gusti starts to stammer, she raises a hand. “By everyone, I mean _every_ Demits.”

 _Shit_. “But that’s not a problem,” Marni eventually demurs, wiggling one eyebrow, “we’ve considered you as one of our kind. Because no one is sane enough to go against Juragan’s companion.”

“We’re waiting for the invitation.” With that, Marni siddles out of the car, leaving Gusti sitting behind the steering wheel, looking stupefied. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
